Catching My Breath: Attending My First Wedding Post-Divorce

“Wise men say, only fools rush in…”

I rushed out of the softly lit ballroom.

Last night at Nora's wedding, I ran down the hall in my towering high heels. My eyes filled with tears and my throat thickened. My hand covered my mouth to keep any sobs from escaping. My breathing turned from shallow to near hyperventilation by the time I reached the bridal suite, the private room reserved for the bridal party. I flung myself down on a velvet couch, the full skirt of my bridesmaid dress fanned out around me. With my face buried in my hands, I gasped for breath and the tears started.

Apparently another bridesmaid and a friend spotted me leaving the ballroom and kindly followed me (I didn’t even know they were behind me). They entered the bridal suite and saw me, a trembling pile of pathetic bridesmaid elegance with my updo and rhinestones and liquid eyeliner. I looked up at them and thinly said, “That’s my wedding song.”

My hands started shaking and briefly I got lightheaded. I felt like I was about to drown. My entire body was reacting to having heard the song!

Each of them hugged me tightly as I started rambling to justify my silent outburst.

“I did so well today!" I exclaimed. "I haven’t cried at all, not even a little. Max even texted me before to see if I was OK and I told him I was and I really meant it. I made it through their first dance and was all happy for Nora, even though it made me think of my first dance with Max and how we took dance lessons but I still wasn’t sad. But then our song came on, our fucking song, of all the romantic songs in the fucking world, our song!”

Even in the moment, as I tried to recapture my own breath, I couldn’t believe the abrupt change in me. One moment I was the happy bridesmaid clapping and cheering and genuinely grinning with joy for my friend, and then boom, I hear a few bars of “Can’t Help Falling In Love” and I go to pieces. Another one of those wacky emotional rollercoaster divorce moments had blindsided me.

I looked up at my friends. “Shit, did I make a scene? I was trying not to! Did anyone see me?”

During the week leading up to the wedding, I had given myself a talking-to about making sure I just enjoy the wedding and do not take away from the happy experience for anyone else. Up to this moment, I’d totally stuck to it, from the toast I gave at the rehearsal dinner to walking down the aisle in the church. I had maintained my composure and genuinely enjoyed everything about the wedding festivities.

They assured me that no, I didn’t make a scene. (Added bonus: with almost 300 guests at Nora's wedding, it would be easy to get away with escaping the ballroom unnoticed.) I sighed with relief.

Enough of this, I told myself. I took a few more deep breaths as I shook it off. I dabbed my eyes with tissues; remarkably, I hadn’t totally screwed up my makeup. Over the past few years of crying in bathrooms, I have gotten quite skilled at crying and not messing up my makeup. I stood up and found that I was again grounded. 

I exhaled.

“OK.  Let’s go back in there. I don’t want to miss anymore of the wedding.”

We left the bridal suite and I calmly strolled down the hall back to ballroom. My confidence and composure returned. The rest of the evening was wonderful, and I didn’t shed any more tears about me, my divorce, or Max. (In fact, I ended up only getting two hours of sleep last night, but that'll be a story for another week!)

What was your first wedding post-divorce like for you? Read Nora's perspective on this time in our friendship.